


We Don't Have To Dance

by Victorious56



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, One Night Stands, Pre-Relationship, bedroom scenes, nothing too graphic, probably, to something more meaningful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:42:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27558556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Victorious56/pseuds/Victorious56
Summary: Neither Qrow nor Clover is looking for love— both are happy with casual encounters. A chance meeting might change their perspective.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Comments: 13
Kudos: 60





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The idea for this (and the title) came from [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8fEoWA9Vz3A) by Andy Black.

Qrow pushed his way to the bar. The club was busier than usual, and when he reached the front of the throng, he saw why. _Happy Hour_.

Qrow grimaced. _Nothing happy about drinking until you can't stand up unsupported, before heaving your stomach contents into the nearest gutter_. He'd done that too many times in his life already.

_Shame this is the best place to come if you want to pick someone up_. Qrow was feeling restless, and he knew exactly what his body needed to achieve something approaching contentment.

A white wine spritzer—light on the wine, heavy on the spritz—in hand, he moved away to one side of the room. Plenty of familiar faces, a few too-familiar hands that were overly keen to remind themselves what his butt felt like, though...

_Wait a minute. He's new._

"Yeah, sure, I'll give you a call sometime." Qrow extricated himself from the draping arms of a guy who he couldn't even remember sleeping with, and moved further around the room. The person who'd caught his eye was dancing close to someone else, but he didn't seem too committed. His gaze was roaming over the other dancers, and beyond, to the fringes of the dance floor. To Qrow.

Qrow smiled his smallest smile, raising his glass to the man on the dance floor. Then he allowed his eyes to drift away from the other, whilst at the same time keeping him in his peripheral vision. A minute or so later, the music stopped briefly, and Qrow sensed, rather than saw, the man threading his way between the dancers to where he was standing.

In his short assessment, Qrow had noticed the guy was well-built, his biceps swoon-worthy, his chest broad beneath the white sleeveless top he wore. _A definite possibility._ A few seconds later, the possibility became _I want this— and now_ , as the man was at his side.

"D'you fancy a dance?" His voice was warm, and Qrow slowly turned his head to look into a friendly face, with green eyes and a welcoming smile.

"I don't dance." Qrow's smiled widened, as he allowed his leg to brush lightly against that of the other man.

"Odd place to come to, if you don't dance." As he spoke, the other moved closer, his front now pushing against Qrow's hip in a way which made his interest obvious.

"I just come here to meet people." Qrow turned to fully face the other man, their lower bodies now pressed one to the other. The heat flared between them, as their eyes locked together.

"Met anyone interesting this evening?" His voice faltered a little as Qrow slid an arm about his waist, pulling him closer.

"I think I may have done... how about you?"

The man's mouth curved into a wide smile. "Well, there was this one guy... tall, dark and handsome... a lot like you, actually."

"Fancy that." Qrow leaned forward and spoke softly by his ear. "If you're interested in leaving here early... my place is a ten-minute walk away."

"I was just thinking, it's pretty much time for me to get going." The other man's voice was low as his breath tickled Qrow's ear. "I can walk you home if you like... it's always better with two."

"Sounds perfect." Qrow ran one hand across the other's chest, feeling a nipple harden under his thumb. "Let's go, then." He put his glass on the ledge running along the wall, took the man's hand, and led him from the club.

❖

The evening air was cool after the humidity inside, and Qrow pulled his jacket a little more snugly across his front. He then noticed his companion was still sleeveless.

"Uh, you'd better go back for your jacket, before we go any further."

The other man looked confused. "I don't have a jacket."

"But... aren't you cold?" It was only March, and the evening air held no warmth at all.

"I don't notice the cold, really. I'm warm... feel." He took Qrow's hand and held it against his abdomen. Qrow's eyes widened as he felt the warmth of the man's skin through the material.

"You _are_ hot."

"It's been said." The other man winked at Qrow, who smiled back. He unconsciously quickened his pace; he had a good feeling about this one.

❖

Qrow took his shoes off in the small hallway of his flat, his companion following suit. They went through to the open plan living area, and Qrow took off his jacket and hung it over a dining chair. He felt strong arms slide around his waist, and a warm mouth pressed kisses against his neck. The heat of the other's chest at his back was unexpectedly exciting, and Qrow reached his hands behind him, feeling for the fastenings of the man's trousers.

He heard the hitch in the other's breath as he slid a hand inside, cupping firmly. One of the man's hands moved to Qrow's thigh, rubbing in a teasing fashion. He laughed softly as Qrow moaned, pushing himself against the other's hand.

"Shall we take it to the bedroom?" His hand edged a little further over.

Qrow moved away, pulling him by the hand. "It's right here."

The flat was all on one level, the bedroom area screened by a partial wall from the living area. The wide bed was neatly made, the covers turned back and the pillows plumped up and smooth. There were several folded towels placed on one side of the bed.

"Looks like the stage is set." The smooth voice in Qrow's ear sent a tremble through his body. _If his voice can do that by itself, this could be a fun evening_.

Qrow turned round and finished unbuttoning the man's trousers, slipping both hands inside. _This guy is good to go._ The white top was quickly removed, and Qrow trailed a hand over his chest.

"Nice," he murmured, only pausing to help with the unbuttoning of his shirt. Their hands fumbled as impatience took over, and the clothes were kicked aside as Qrow pulled him onto the bed. He was warm against Qrow's skin, hot and hard and urgent, hands and mouth eager as they explored Qrow's body.

"How d'you like to play this?"

The inevitable question drew Qrow's usual response. "Any way up, I'm easy. You?"

"Yeah, either way is fine by me." His words were a promise Qrow needed him to keep. This encounter was sparking an intensity of desire he hadn't felt in a while.

Qrow reached over and opened the drawer in the nightstand. "Here you go, then. Everything you need is in here."

Green eyes gazed into red, as he lowered his lips to Qrow's. Qrow turned his face away.

"Sorry, I don't do kissing... not on the mouth, anyway." That was too much like a show of affection, and Qrow wasn't in the market for that.

He raised one eyebrow. "Okay. I'm sure I can find plenty of other places." With a ghost of a wink, his mouth moved lower, and lower.

Tongue, and teeth, and fingers left Qrow gasping to catch his breath, his hands snatching at the edges of the bed while his body arched to meet the man's mouth. This was too much, yet not enough. Qrow needed more.

He ran his fingers through the man's short, brown hair, as the other broke off to look up at him. With one last, slow lick, he pulled himself up the bed, his body brushing against Qrow's as he did so. Qrow reached down, aching for more than just a brief contact between them.

"Time to turn you over, I think." His green eyes glittered as he reached into the drawer, taking out a condom and opening the wrapper. "Here, help me."

  


As his vision returned, the buzzing slowly fading, Qrow's hands relaxed their grip on the headboard. The man behind him still held Qrow in a firm embrace, his movements slowing as he softened inside him. One hand was pressed flat against Qrow's chest, the other cupped around Qrow in an attempt to prevent too much spillage onto the bed. The teeth which had marked Qrow's shoulder were replaced by soft lips and gentle murmurings against Qrow's bruised skin. The effect was mesmeric, but also... _comforting_ , in a way which felt alien to him.

They slowly lowered onto the bed. Qrow felt him slip out with a sense of loss, and caught at the man's arm across his chest, holding it closely. He felt the man murmur by his ear. "Was that okay?"

Qrow surprised himself with an unsteady laugh. He didn't usually feel quite this... _undone_ , after sex. "That was quite something. _You_ were— quite something."

The man unclasped Qrow's body, grabbing a towel to clean his hand. He folded it over and gently blotted it against Qrow. "There you go." Qrow twisted his head, meeting the gaze of the other, who was smiling softly, the green eyes crinkling at the corners. "Thank you." He pressed one final kiss to Qrow's shoulder.

Qrow smiled back a little shakily. "You're very polite."

"What can I say? My mother raised me well." He eased himself away from Qrow, carefully removing the condom. "Can I use the bathroom?"

"Sure, over there." Qrow indicated a door in the corner, and turned to watch the man pad across the room. _That's a view I could get used to._ He roused himself after a moment, quickly tidying the bedclothes, and pulling on some sweatpants. He picked up the man's discarded clothes and laid them out on the bed.

When he returned, Qrow put down his phone and looked up. "You all sorted?"

"Yeah. And... thanks again. That was good." He dressed as he spoke, pulling the top over his head and down across his chest. Qrow felt a pang of regret as the defined abs disappeared from view. He rose from his seat as the man crossed into the living area to find his shoes.

Qrow watched as he straightened up. "You okay to get home? D'you need a taxi?"

"It's fine, the walk to my hotel isn't a long one."

The tiniest disappointment rose in Qrow's chest. "You're not local, then?"

"Here on business. Back home tomorrow." He turned to face Qrow. "Well, goodnight— I'm sorry, we didn't get as far as names, did we?"

That had been deliberate on Qrow's part. He generally liked to keep a distance.

"No... I'm Qrow."

"Well, goodnight, Qrow. I'm Clover. If I'm in town again, maybe I'll look you up." There was the merest suggestion of a question in his voice.

Qrow hesitated. "Yeah, why not?" He paused, then leant forward and kissed Clover on the cheek. "Bye then, Clover."

The door opened and closed, and then Qrow stood alone in the hallway. He returned to the bedroom, one hand running through his hair and a thoughtful look on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks once more to Aaron for his help sorting my Ms from my Es 🙂


	2. Chapter 2

This time the club was almost unbearably hot. High summer had come early this year, and the air conditioning was struggling to keep up. Clover scanned the room for the third time, but he saw no-one he recognised.

"Can I buy you a drink?" The guy who had closed in on him was attractive, if you liked willowy blonds. _And he could be the nicest man I've ever met_. But he wasn't Qrow.

"Thanks, but no thanks. I was just leaving, actually."

"Like some company, then?"

"No, really. I'm good." Clover gave a smile which he hoped was simultaneously polite yet disinterested. The tall blond man shrugged, turning away to find a more receptive companion.

Clover glanced round one last time, before pushing through the press of bodies to the exit. The still warm air outside was not as refreshing as he'd have liked, but it was an improvement of sorts.

  


It had been three months since Clover was last in the neighbourhood, and he'd thought about Qrow often in the interim. Quite why, he couldn't work out. Their brief liaison had been a heady, memorable moment... but that was all. One evening, only a couple of hours... but Clover had played it over in his head many times, and always with the same result.

His steps faltered as he tried to discreetly adjust his trousers. Gods, this was embarrassing. Not one of the many men he'd slept with had ever had this effect on him, either physically or mentally. _Probably because I never had a chance to tire of him._ That was usually how it went.

So as he was back here for work, he'd decided to set his mind at rest, and he could put this behind him. He didn't have Qrow's number, but he had the address.

Standing outside the block of flats, Clover almost had a change of heart. He tarried on the pavement, about to walk on. Looking at the envelope in his hands, he wondered again why he felt he had to do this. He stepped toward the glass entrance door, and pushed the envelope through the letter slot at the side. Moving back, he looked up at the building, not knowing which window was Qrow's. He couldn't even recall which floor he lived on... some memories from that evening were very clear indeed— others, not so much.

Huffing out a breath, he glanced at his watch, and decided to head back to his hotel. At least the air conditioning was effective there.

  


Some time later, Qrow escorted his companion of the evening to the front door of the block. She turned to him, one hand resting lightly on his arm. "You don't have to wait with me, you know. The taxi's almost here."

"I won't have to wait long, then." He opened the front door, almost treading on the white envelope lying on the wide doormat. Stooping down, he checked the addressee, raising one dark eyebrow when he saw his name written in an unfamiliar hand. _Just my first name... odd._

The woman had stepped down to the street, looking in each direction before raising her hand as a vehicle approached.

"Here it is, I'm off now."

Qrow glanced up abstractedly. "Oh, good. Uh, thanks for a nice evening."

She waved to him, before opening the taxi door and disappearing from his life.

Qrow took the stairs slowly to the first floor, running his finger under the sealed flap of the envelope. One piece of notepaper was folded inside, and he opened it, noticing it was headed _Hotel Imperial_ in blue lettering. He opened his front door and went inside, scanning the short note to find the name at the bottom.

Clover.

Just reading one word stopped Qrow in his hallway. A sudden heat stirred low in his abdomen, as he recalled that one evening. Those few hours.

Qrow read the brief note.

__  


_Hi Qrow,_

_I'm in town on business for a few days, staying at the Imperial._

_Do you fancy meeting up for a drink? Or something?_

_Here's my number, text me if you're interested._

_._

_._

_Clover_

  


Qrow went to sit at the dining table, his hands trembling a fraction as he took out his phone.

_Why has he got to me like this?_ Qrow didn't understand it. 

He typed a message and hit send, hoping perhaps if they met again, he could get Clover out of his system.

It was now late into the evening, and Qrow didn't expect a reply before tomorrow. He walked round the bedroom area, methodically collecting crumpled tissues and clothes from the floor. After smoothing down the sheets, he went into the bathroom to get ready for bed. The buzz of the electric toothbrush masked the _ping_ of the message arriving on his phone.

He took off his boxers and put them in the wash. It was too hot to wear anything in bed, and the cool of the sheets was welcome to his warm skin. As he took his phone to put it on the charger, he saw Clover's reply.

_That's great, do you want to come to the hotel at about 8 tomorrow? We can have a drink before deciding what to do next._

The text was terminated with a _wink_ emoji. Qrow laughed out loud, sending back _See you tomorrow_ before putting his phone down.

So, Clover was flirty. Playful, even.

Qrow leaned back on the pillows, one hand idly moving across his body. Tomorrow, he would scratch the itch, and all would return to normal.

The memory of Clover's green eyes, his broad chest, and his strong arms, filled Qrow's thoughts.

His hand moved faster.

❖

The following day was even hotter than the previous one had been, and Qrow found concentrating on his work difficult. One advantage of working freelance was having the freedom to take time off, so after lunch he went to the large park nearby, buying an ice-cream and walking along the shady paths between the trees. This was pleasant, he felt calm, tonight he'd have a drink or two with Clover, they'd probably go to bed, Clover would leave town, everything would go on as it always did...

 _Damn it._ Qrow licked his hand as the thawing ice-cream ran in rivulets between his fingers. _Time to think about something else..._

❖

It was seven-thirty and Qrow threw the fourth shirt onto the bed. All his shirts were long-sleeved, and it was just _so warm._ But wearing a t-shirt to a hotel bar seemed... sloppy, somehow. _Although if this pans out like last time, I won't have my clothes on for long anyway._ A shiver crept along his spine, as he looked once more into the wardrobe.

  


Clover sat in the bar of the hotel, one ankle resting on his opposite knee. His attempt to appear relaxed was spoiled by his hand, the fingers drumming repeatedly on the edge of the seat beside him. He looked at his phone once more. Five past eight. There had been no word from Qrow, maybe he was held up in traffic...

A cough made Clover look up. Qrow stood before him, a small smile on his face. "Sorry I'm a bit late... I couldn't find anything to wear."

Clover regarded the black jeans and diaphanous silvery shirt Qrow was wearing. He stood abruptly, their bodies almost touching. Trying to slow down his breathing, Clover said, "You look amazing."

Qrow blushed, running his hand through his hair. The compliment was unexpected, as was his own reaction to it. "Thanks. Uh, the shirt was the reason I was late, so... sorry about that. It took me a while to find one that wouldn't be too warm."

"It was definitely worth the wait." Clover's fingers twitched, as he resisted the temptation to touch the silky fabric. "Would— shall we get a drink?"

"Yeah, good idea."

Clover sat down again, trying to find a comfortable position. His body was not generally quite this eager so early in the evening.

Qrow took a seat at right-angles, picking up the drinks menu and scanning the list. After a minute or so, a server approached.

"I'll have a Mojito mocktail, please," said Qrow.

"Same for me," added Clover. "Room 232."

The server walked away, and Clover looked at Qrow. "You don't drink?"

"I do sometimes, but in the hot weather I prefer something soft."

"That's not how I remember it." Clover smiled, watching Qrow's cheeks redden. "Or is my memory not so good?"

Qrow considered Clover, torn between laughing and just throwing himself at him. "I didn't know you were so... cheeky."

"To be fair, we didn't really bother with the whole _getting to know you_ stuff last time."

The server arrived with their drinks, and after taking a sip, Qrow said, "I don't, generally. I mean, I wasn't looking for a relationship. Just a good hook-up. Which it was."

Clover nodded. "Likewise. I don't have the time for anything serious— work is so hectic and anyway, I'm not sure I want to put the hours in. The odd one-off here and there is just easier."

"Glad we agree." Qrow raised his glass to Clover. "Here's to simplicity."

Clover leaned over and chinked his glass to Qrow's. Their eyes met, and Qrow said, "Shall we take these to your room?"

In answer, Clover stood and held out a hand. He pulled Qrow to his feet, and they wound their way between the tables to the lift.

  


The Mojitos were put to one side, unfinished. Clover's fingers trembled as they undid the buttons of Qrow's shirt, his hands eager to touch again the pale skin he remembered. Qrow helped, unbuttoning his trousers before moving to Clover's. Within a minute or two all their clothes were cast onto the floor, and Qrow pushed Clover onto the bed. He was about to join him, when he stopped and looked about. His mouth curved into a smile when he saw the small stack of towels on the nightstand.

"Ready for anything, huh?"

Clover looked up at him, then sat up. "Of course, except..." He jumped up and went to his suitcase, peering inside and taking something out. "Just in case." He tossed the condoms and small tube onto the bed beside the towels, turning to Qrow with a smile. "Now, where were we?"

  


Half an hour later, and Clover was glad of the air conditioning in his room. Qrow had covered his body with slow kisses— almost all of it, anyway. Clover lay on his stomach as Qrow moved gradually down, now circling the dimples at the small of his back. Clover groaned. The contact between the bed and his body wasn't nearly enough, and his hand once more slid underneath his hip.

"Not yet..." Qrow touched Clover's arm, and he withdrew his hand.

"Qrow, please..." It was almost a whimper, and Clover slid a bent knee out to one side, inviting more. His hips pushed back against Qrow's mouth, the tongue now tracing across his buttocks. Clover felt the delicate touch getting closer, his hands grabbing at the pillow beneath his head, and then...

Qrow moved back, one hand trailing so close, but not close enough.

"Turn over." Qrow's warm breath whispered against Clover's heated face, and he rolled over eagerly. Qrow's lips almost brushed his, and time slowed down as dark red eyes gazed into green. Then, as though he was trying to resist a magnetic attraction, Qrow drew back, his tongue just visible as he licked his lips. Clover raised a hand, fingers brushing through Qrow's hair. Before he could pull him closer, Qrow put a finger to his lips. With the faintest shake of his head, his mouth moved to Clover's shoulder, and began its downward journey.

  


A while later, Qrow sat up straight, rubbing the back of his hand across his mouth. He smiled at Clover, resting a hand on his stomach. "You okay?"

Clover let out a shuddering breath. "Gods yes, but _please_ , Qrow... this is... I can't last much longer."

"Is that a challenge?"

Clover's laugh was unsteady. "You're wicked." His hand crept over once more, stopping when Qrow gave it a playful tap.

"Patience is a virtue." He picked up the tube of gel and squeezed some onto his palm.

"I don't feel very virtuous." Clover's breath hitched as he watched Qrow's fingers becoming slick.

"You might want to slide a pillow underneath."

Clover did so, his thighs trembling as Qrow edged them apart.

  


As the room came back into focus, Clover became aware of his laboured breathing. The dizzy sensation subsided as his hips stilled, settling down onto the pillow as soft lips pressed a final kiss against him. Qrow sat back and withdrew his fingers slowly. Clover shivered, his hand releasing its grip on the pillow to clasp Qrow's thigh.

"Oh, fuck, gods, Qrow..."

Qrow picked up a towel, wiping his face and hand thoroughly. He leaned over and looked intently into Clover's eyes, before kissing his cheek lightly. Clover stared at him, at the reddened lips now wearing a small smile. "I just need to finish myself off, if that's okay."

There was silence for a few seconds. "Okay? Of course, sorry, my brains's not quite—" Clover tried to sound coherent. "Do you want to lie down? I can—"

"No, you stay there. If you don't mind getting a bit sticky." Qrow's eyes locked with Clover's, who gave his head a small shake.

Qrow pulled the pillow out from underneath Clover, and straddled him, one hand holding the headboard for support. The other was already moving, finding a rhythm quickly. Clover's gaze travelled from Qrow's face and down again, one hand stroking the side of Qrow's hip.

As Qrow drew close, his eyelids closed, breath faltering. At the last moment, he opened his eyes and looked down into Clover's face. The hungry, wanton expression there was all it took, and Qrow spilled across Clover's chest, his hand slowing as he sank back down. He was vaguely aware of Clover's grip on his thigh relaxing, becoming a gentle rub against his skin.

As his breath gradually steadied, Qrow sat back with a groan. After a moment, he reached for a towel to dry Clover off, but before he could, Clover ran a finger across his chest and slowly licked it, his eyes on Qrow's face. He repeated the movement, this time raising his finger to Qrow's mouth, gently touching his lips. Qrow caught Clover's hand with a low moan, slowly licking his finger clean. He held Clover's hand for a moment, finally releasing it with a shaky smile.

Qrow finally dried Clover's chest, before pushing the damp towels onto the floor, and swinging one leg over to flop onto the bed. There was quiet in the room, the air conditioning's soft hiss the only sound.

Clover shifted onto his side to face Qrow. "Thank you doesn't seem enough to cover that, but... thank you, Qrow. That was— so good. I mean... _really_ good." He raised one hand to tentatively brush Qrow's arm. "I know you don't like kissing... how do you feel about cuddling?" His voice was hesitant as he gazed at Qrow's profile.

Qrow turned his head to look at him with a slight smile. "I can manage that. And, yeah. That was _very_ good." He touched Clover's hand briefly, before rolling to face away from him. Clover edged closer, and rested an arm lightly across Qrow's waist.

"This okay?"

"Mmm." Qrow knew he mustn't fall asleep. He didn't do the whole _waking up next morning to gaze into the eyes of your loved one_...

❖

Several hours later, Qrow woke with a jolt. Clover had moved away from him, a wide stretch of empty bed between them.

With a quiet groan, Qrow edged off the bed. He glanced at the time, raising his eyebrows as he looked for his clothes in the gloom. Clover did not stir.

Once dressed, Qrow scrawled a note on the hotel paper he found on the desk. With a last look at the sleeping man, he left the room, shutting the door behind him with a soft click.


	3. Chapter 3

Clover woke to an empty bed, and though disappointed, he wasn't surprised. Qrow didn't seem interested in getting close. Not in _that_ way, anyway.

He sat up and yawned, rolling his shoulders. Everything ached, but it was a good ache. A _satisfied_ ache.

He headed to the bathroom, and as he started to rub the razor over his face he crossed the room to open the curtains. On his way back to the bathroom, he saw Qrow's note.

  


_Yesterday was amazing. Sorry for leaving, but that's just me. Doesn't mean I didn't enjoy it. I did, and if you're up for another round tomorrow (or is it today) then let me know._

  


Clover read it twice.

_Another round._

He turned off the razor, resting it thoughtfully against his chin. He couldn't recall spending two consecutive nights with the same person before.

_That would almost make Qrow my boyfriend._

Clover laughed to himself uncertainly, and went to the bathroom to finish off.

As he was dressing, a message arrived on his phone. With a smile, he picked it up. The smile quickly faded to a frown.

An emergency at Head Office meant he had to curtail his customer visit, and return immediately. A flight had been booked, and a taxi would collect him at nine-thirty.

_Shit._

Clover looked from his phone to Qrow's note on the desk.

_Shit_.

He barely had time to pack his case, send an explanatory email to the customer, and eat a hurried breakfast. Then he was in a taxi heading to the airport, and he didn't know when he might be in the area again.

❖

Qrow woke late, having eventually got home at about one o'clock. Sleep had not come easily after he'd laid down, as he wondered why he hadn't stayed at the hotel. It wouldn't have meant anything, it would have been convenient, sensible...

The morning was already warm, and Qrow could smell Clover on his skin. A twisting feeling coiled within him. He forced himself to get up, hoping breakfast would settle the odd sensation in his stomach.

After eating some toast and drinking two cups of coffee, Qrow decided he was ready to face the day. Checking his phone, he saw there was a message from Clover. Something stirred low in his abdomen, but as he read the message, the warm feeling was replaced by another, less pleasant one.

  


_I've been called back to the office, don't know when I'll be out your way again. I was definitely up for this evening so I'm very pissed off at the moment. As in, extremely pissed off. Really sorry to bail on you._

__  


Qrow sat at the table staring at his phone. The sense of disappointment seemed disproportionate to him, but he felt it all the same. _I've only spent a few hours with him in total. This makes no sense_.

  


The arrival of a second message jolted him from these thoughts.

  


_I know it seems crazy and this isn't how things are for me usually. I was really looking forward to seeing you again. I don't know if I can but I'll try and get another trip out soon. Or I could just come anyway... but maybe that's a bit much. Don't want to force myself on you. Well I do, but that's another story._

  


Qrow couldn't prevent the smile forming. _You can force yourself on me any time, Clover._ He realised with a shock, the flippant thought was true.

But Clover wasn't going to be here, not for a while anyway. Where that left Qrow, he wasn't at all sure.

He gazed at his phone, eyes drifting out of focus as he pondered how to reply. He wanted to let Clover know he was disappointed too, without sounding needy. He didn't _do_ needy.

  


_That's a bummer. I was looking forward to it too. Let's hope it's not too long before you're here again._

  


Qrow read what he'd typed, decided it hit the right note, and sent it. There was no instant response, which probably meant Clover was on the plane already.

Qrow put his phone down, trying to shake off the sense of loss. He had work to do, a life to live. He just had to get on with it.

❖

Weeks, then months, went by. Clover couldn't justify a work trip as an excuse to see Qrow, and honestly, when he analysed it rationally, there was no reason to do so. He'd had good sex— _very good sex,_ his body reminded him—twice, with an attractive man. What was so special about that?

Clover didn't want to dwell on the possible reasons why it might be special.

They had started messaging each other about all kinds of things. Nothing intimate... just small moments to be shared.

One day, Clover had a mild rant about the problems he was having with his internet provider.

Another time, Qrow described an incident in the park, where a man had to retrieve his dog from the lake as it was harassing the ducks. Qrow's story brought a smile to Clover's face during a tedious day at work, something which did not go unnoticed by his colleagues. The fact that Clover often received messages which caused him to smile, and occasionally blush, was noted, and talked over when he wasn't there.

Clover sent Qrow pictures from his business trips. Somehow a ritual developed, and he would take a photo of the departure lounge at each airport he returned from. There would follow a long and increasingly silly discussion about the merits of a particular fabric colour, or a style of chair.

Once Qrow sent pictures of himself wearing two different shirts which he'd ordered, asking for Clover's opinion on which he preferred. Eventually Clover replied, but only after he'd saved the images to his phone, feeling a little guilty as he did so. _It's just in case I need to look at the shirts again_.

Clover did not delete any of these conversations from his phone.

Neither did Qrow.

❖

The year wore on into winter, and Qrow caught the flu. Fortunately for him, one of his neighbours was a nurse, and was kind enough to keep an eye on him during his sickness. After a few days, Qrow felt well enough to pick up his phone. There was a succession of increasingly anxious messages from Clover, and Qrow felt a pang of guilt.

_I know it sounds pathetic, but I've had flu and I was too out of it to do anything. Sorry I didn't reply sooner._

A little later, Clover responded.

_No, I'm sorry for pestering you. How are you feeling now?_

A short conversation followed, then Clover told Qrow what he'd wanted to speak to him about.

_There's talk at work of setting up an office out your way... they've asked me if I'm interested in running it. I don't want to presume anything, though. But if there's anything to discuss, it can wait until you're better._

Qrow read the message several times, trying to force his brain to focus. _What is he saying, exactly?_ Qrow's head ached, and he slumped back down onto the pillow.

_Sorry, I can't think straight. Can we try again tomorrow?_

Clover assured him there was no hurry. _And get well soon, Qrow. I wish I was there to soothe your fevered brow_.

Qrow squinted at the hug emoji he'd signed off with.

He wished Clover was there, too.

❖

Two days later, Qrow was gradually getting back to normal, although he was still feeling weak, and only managing a few hours' work each day. When Clover texted him early one evening, Qrow felt his lethargy dissipate. After initial enquiries about his health, Clover asked if Qrow felt up to an actual conversation. On the phone.

The prospect sent Qrow into a mild panic. He rarely used his phone for phone calls, and the thought of speaking to Clover was making his heart beat faster. He actually felt nervous.

_Come on, you're a grown man. How difficult can this be?_

The call came through and Qrow held the phone against his ear. Clover's warm, "Hi, Qrow," was enough to set Qrow's heart fluttering even more.

"Uh, hi." Qrow's normally husky voice was even gruffer after his illness. "Sorry if my voice is a bit rough. It sounds worse than it is, fortunately."

At the other end of the line, Clover was pacing back and forth, gripping his phone tighter than necessary. "No, you're fine. It's good to hear your voice, after... it's been a long time."

"It has." Qrow tried a deep inhale to calm his erratic breathing. The coughing fit that followed had Clover fretting, until after a minute or so, Qrow recovered his composure. He sipped a glass of water slowly. "Sorry about that. I'm still a bit off, as you can tell."

"I'm sorry. Look, we can do this some other time... I don't want to—"

"No, it's fine. It's good to talk to you properly."

"It is." After a moment, Clover continued. "I need to speak to you about this new office, and my transfer—"

"Yeah, about that." Qrow swallowed. "It's... I mean, I'm not sure what this is, here. Us, I mean."

"Well—"

"It wouldn't be right for you to move out here because of something that might not even be anything." Qrow's words came out in a rush, and he waited for Clover's response, fingers twisting a strand of dark hair round and round.

"No, it's okay, Qrow. That's not how it would be. The thing is... what I've said to my boss, is that I'd come for three months, to get everything up and running. Then I'd have the option of staying on... or not."

Qrow felt a lightness in his chest. "So, there's no pressure to—"

"No, not at all." Clover's tone was emphatic. "I mean, I hope it's not wrong to assume you want to... that we can see each other, a bit."

_There's nothing I want more._ But Qrow couldn't say those words. "Yeah, why not? It'll be fun."

"That's the plan. So, in the New Year, I'll fly out to get things started. And maybe we can meet up again, finally."

"I'd like that."

❖

Now they'd had a phone conversation, it became easier to feel close. Clover had never considered himself close to anyone, outside of family. He'd not met anyone he wanted to get to know better, to become attached to. Until now.

Qrow spent Christmas with his sister, deftly side-stepping questions about his love-life. She noticed how he would shut himself in the study, phone to his ear, emerging later with a smile on his face. _After all this time, maybe he's found someone._ She was not the only person starting to come to that conclusion.

❖

Clover was back at the Hotel Imperial, after a tiring journey which had been delayed due to bad weather. As he'd promised, he let Qrow know once he reached his room.

Qrow's response was swift. _Shall I come over? Or are you too shattered?_

Clover considered for about three seconds.

_I'm a bit tired, but not too much. It'd be great to see you, if you're free._

After arranging to meet downstairs, Clover realised he wouldn't have time to shower. He settled for a quick face wash, unpacking a few things before heading to the lobby.

Qrow entered the hotel, looking around for Clover and wondering if his gnawing anxiety was visible on the outside. It had been nearly seven months since they'd last met... what if things were different now they were about to see each other again?

Clover exited the lift, scanning the area until he saw Qrow entering from the street. Qrow was frowning, but his brow cleared when he caught sight of Clover, his steps quickening. They met in the middle of the lobby, stopping a short distance apart.

"Uh, hi again." Qrow's face was an endearing shade of pink, and Clover felt a surge of warmth in his chest. "Do we... hug, d'you reckon?"

"We could try that." Clover smiled, and after one slightly awkward embrace, he said, "Do you want a coffee down here, or something? Or we could—"

"Could we have a coffee, d'you think?"

"Sure. Let's sit down."

They ordered their coffees, and Clover sat back, watching Qrow. He'd waited so long for this moment, and his imagination had supplied the scene. Their eyes would meet across the room, they would rush towards each other, and he would sweep Qrow off his feet. But that hadn't happened, and Qrow had a small frown on his face as he sipped his coffee.

Neither man had been in this situation before. A delicate equilibrium, the thinnest layer of ice upon which they stood... each was reluctant to take a step, in case the balance should shift irrevocably, the ice splinter between them. Neither wanted to jeopardise the vulnerable thing they held in their hands.

"Qrow—" Clover gulped his coffee, swallowing too much and spluttering into his hand. He took a napkin from the table and blotted it dry. "Damn it... this is weird, isn't it?"

Qrow shot him a glance. "Yeah, it is." He paused. "I'm not sure where we're at, if you get me. Keeping in touch since you were last here, it's been..." He put his cup down, moving around to sit beside Clover. Qrow took his hand between his own, thumb rubbing along the edge of the palm. "It's been great." His voice was soft. "I was at my sister's at Christmas... well, you know that. She knew there was someone, and I wanted to tell her about you... but I'm not sure what you are, to me. Or what I am, to you."

Clover rested his other hand over Qrow's. "You're special to me, Qrow. And I hope— I don't know what to call it. I've never... But I've missed seeing you, and obviously..." He broke off, a flush rising on his face. "What we did together was something I wanted more of."

Qrow pressed his leg against Clover's. "Me, too. Shall we—"

"Yes. Let's go up."

  


They left the lift and walked along the corridor to Clover's room. "I haven't even had time for a shower." His tone was apologetic as they entered the room.

"Don't let me stop you." Qrow smiled. "How big is the shower, anyway?"

After a moment's confusion, Clover understood. "Big enough for two."

  


The steam billowed towards the ceiling. Clover rubbed the shampoo through his hair, then laughingly did the same to Qrow, who complained it made his eyes sting. After rinsing the suds away, Clover said, "Could you soap my back? I always have trouble getting to the middle..."

Qrow smiled as he lathered his hands and rubbed them slowly over Clover's broad back. Then he rinsed the soap off, and Clover turned round to face him. He rubbed a patch of froth from Qrow's cheek, his hand lingering. Qrow mirrored the gesture, and the distance between their faces decreased as he drew Clover toward him.

"Can I kiss you?"

Clover stared. "Are you sure?"

"Yep. I've wanted to, for a long time."

Their lips met, water coursing down their faces. A thousand tears for the kisses Qrow had never permitted himself, and yet... _this is the only one that matters._ Qrow broke off, smiling widely. "Let's go to bed."

  


Clover grabbed the things he'd unpacked earlier and left on the bed, tossing them onto a chair as Qrow slid under the covers. "This is chilly! Come and warm me up."

Clover grinned. "With pleasure." He scrambled into the bed, resting on one elbow as he looked into Qrow's face. He pushed some damp strands of hair from Qrow's forehead. "Well, I'm here."

"Took you long enough." Qrow ran his fingers through Clover's short hair, which was nearly dry already. "Kiss me again."

Clover hesitated, sensing a line that Qrow had allowed himself to cross. He felt a lump in his throat, as his lips brushed Qrow's. He heard the hum, deep down, as Qrow kissed him back, lips parting a little. Clover paused, catching his breath, before saying softly, "You okay with this?"

His eyes met Qrow's, shining red as they looked up at him.

"More than okay." His warm breath sighed against Clover's lips, and for a moment there was stillness.

For all that they had done together—their bodies shared with such passion—the intimacy of a simple kiss, and what it meant to Qrow, tugged at Clover's heart.

"That's good." With a smile, Clover's mouth covered Qrow's in a more insistent kiss, tongues pushing against each other as Qrow wriggled closer. He slid his arms around Clover's waist, holding him tightly.

Another, slower, kiss.

Clover's teeth scraped gently over Qrow's lower lip.

Qrow sucked Clover's lip, tentatively at first, then more urgently as he heard Clover's low moan.

Clover slotted one leg between Qrow's, and the kisses became messier, more frantic, and desperate. Months of yearning came to fruition as Clover covered Qrow's face in tiny kisses, the sound of his name on Qrow's lips stoking a fire which blazed so brightly between them, before subsiding to a warm glow.

Clover rolled onto his back, pulling Qrow against his chest. Their breathing quietened, hearts slowing to beat steadily together.

Qrow tilted his head and reached up to kiss Clover softly on the mouth. "I'm glad you're here."

Clover hugged him closer. "Me, too."

Qrow had always told himself that the idea of falling asleep in the arms of another was impossible. How could it ever be comfortable?

When he roused up, several hours later, he had to admit he'd been wrong.

He left the bed quietly and went to the bathroom.

Returning to the bed, he slid carefully between the sheets without hesitation. Clover rolled over to face him, and Qrow saw one green eye peering at him.

"Everything okay?"

Qrow smiled. "Everything's good." He kissed the tip of Clover's nose. "It'll be even better if you cuddle me."

Clover smothered a yawn into the pillow. "Mmm, c'mon then."

Qrow turned over and backed up against him, as Clover's arm slid round his waist. Qrow found Clover's hand and laced their fingers together, settling down with a contented sigh.

**Author's Note:**

> Friendly comments always appreciated, thank you.


End file.
